


Bleeding Out

by SPNxBookworm



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt Clint Barton, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sarcasm, Self-Worth Issues, Snark, Worried Bucky Barnes, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPNxBookworm/pseuds/SPNxBookworm
Summary: Clint just wanted to have a nice day and show his boyfriend, Bucky, around Bed-Stuy. But alas, it was not meant to be. When you mix automatic turrets, killer robots, the damn snow and the fact that Clint Barton really hates the cold, it's really just a disaster waiting to happen.





	Bleeding Out

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing Winterhawk. Please go easy on me. It's also my first time writing Marvel. I'm trying, you guys. I hope this is at least decent enough to be a good-ish read, lol. 
> 
> Un-beta'd, so errors are all mine. Let me know if you spot any. 
> 
> This could honestly be set anywhere after Avengers: Age Of Ultron. I'm not very picky about when this is set. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for stopping by, enjoy!

If he really had to choose, that is, if he ever had a choice between fighting in New York or DC winter versus middle of bumfuck, nowhere in a forest covered head to toe in snow, he’d choose New York and DC.   
  
Every single time.

Plus, the fact that Hydra seemed to have somehow managed to upped their tech and in turn build killer robots that were now gunning for every single Avenger right this very moment, just added the cherry on top of what Clint would probably call one of his worst days ever.

He’d woken up that day looking forward to spending the day with Bucky by finally having a chance to take him around Bed-Stuy, show him a few of his favorite hang out spots, maybe go find a high enough rooftop together and watch the sunset and lob some half eaten burritos at the unsuspecting public below. 

Cheesy couple stuff, ya know? 

But alas, it was not meant to be.

Because it was Clint and the odds were never in his favour. 

First of all, he’d been woken up two hours early by the Avengers signal. It had also been one of those rare times where he’d fallen asleep with his hearing aids in (he'd just come back from a solo mission the previous night and he was _exhausted_  and Bucky had already been asleep in their bed when he'd arrived and so maybe he'd forgotten to take 'em out) and the blaring alarm had made him jump a foot in the air while striking Bucky across the face with his elbow.

He’d felt bad for that one. Bucky had just grunted his forgiveness and then picked up his gear and left the room, Clint following closely behind, his own suit, bow and quiver full of arrows. 

They had to immediately load onto the quinjet which meant that briefing would be done on the way to wherever they’d been called.

Apparently it was the same old.

Hydra and their quest for either world dominance or world destruction. Something about stopping them from launching a deadly missile that would kill thousands in the city. Clint frankly didn’t care for motives. He just wanted to shoot the assholes that decided to cause such a ruckus that he had to be up at fuck ‘o’ clock to deal with them.

The day had only gotten worse when he managed to spill his coffee all over himself and the floor of the quinjet instead of into his mouth when he’d tripped over his own feet getting in. Everyone knew that Clint without coffee was a deadly combination.

“Aw, coffee, no,” he’d mumbled, utterly devastated.

It had peaked slightly when Bucky offered to share his. Clint had totally not proposed marriage when that happened. 

However, it was short lived. They’d then been deposited in the middle of nowhere and were now supposed to fight killer robots and turrets and all that stupid stuff in neck deep snow.

Okay, maybe, Clint was being dramatic.

He and Bucky were on two separate rooftops of the Hydra base (there were multiple bunker like buildings) with only ankle deep snow while a lot of the others waded through the knee deep sections on the ground.

But come on man.

Clint hated the snow. Even when it snowed in the city, he preferred to stay in his apartment, be it in Bed-Stuy, New York or the Avengers Compound in DC. 

Clint hated the cold in general. It made his fingers numb (you can’t exactly shoot a bow with mittens or woolly gloves on) and his feet cold and he always ended up sniffing and sneezing and being unable to breathe through his nose for at least the next three days.

The city snow was still bearable. 

But it was even colder here. Clint didn’t like it.

“Katniss, if you don’t shut up about the cold, I will personally use a flame thrower on you until every part of you is on fire just to prove a point,” Tony snapped as he flew by, shooting his repulsors at the robot that was sneaking up behind Clint.

“Honestly, at this point I wouldn’t care,” Clint clapped back, letting his arrow loose and hitting three robots in a row. “Damn these high velocity arrows are something else.” Hearing a clanging behind him, he quickly turned around, smacking one of the two robots having missed being blasted off by Tony, with his bow and kicking it off the roof while embedding an explosive arrow in the other before doing the same. 

Content at the sound of the explosion that followed, Clint grinned as he heard Tony’s chuckle, clearly being able to imagine the smug look on his friend’s face. “Don’t get used to the praise, Tin Man.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Legolas. Cap, your six.”

“Got ‘em,” Bucky called, grinning at Steve before looking across the rooftops towards Clint. “That’s thirty four, doll. You owe me five hundred.”

“I can catch up. I’m not far behind,” Clint argued as he fired one arrow after another taking down five robots that were headed for Natasha. “That’s thirty five for me, Buck,” he chanted, throwing his best shit eating grin towards his boyfriend. "Also, you’re welcome, Nat.”

“Oh fuck off, I had that,” Nat groaned, flipping off her best friend.

“Course you did.”

The conversation and banter died for a while as they concentrated, giving call outs when needed and distractions where necessary.

It was now three hours in. Tony and Steve we’re dealing with the masterminds inside the building along with Nat which left Bucky, Thor, Hulk and Clint to deal with the remaining robots and newly activated turrets.

It didn’t help that the wind had picked up and it had started to snow again. Visibility impaired, their job was cut out for them, especially the snipers.

Clint couldn't help but wonder how easier this mission would have been had they had the whole team. But Strange was busy with protecting his sanctions or sanctums or whatever they were called and Sam, Wanda and the rest were called off to assist elsewhere. 

“Thor, you’ve got maybe five to your left a couple yards out and three on your six,” Bucky called out. "I can't get a clear shot from here though. Damn tree's blocking me." 

“I got the ones on your six. Get the rest, Thor,” Clint huffed as he loaded up his bow. Having to concentrate harder to see through the falling snow and adjust his arms because of the freezing temperatures, Clint heard the cocking of an automatic turret behind him a second too late.

"Aw, sh - "    
  
Searing pain travelled through his left side as he went down with a cry, his exploding arrow flying towards the intended target but only managing to get one of the three intended.

“Clint?!” Bucky’s panicked voice traveled through the comms. 

Clint grit his teeth as he managed to get on all fours, the cold seeming almost mind numbing now. His eyes immediately spotted the slow but steadily growing pool of red over the left side of his hip and torso.

“Barton, you better fucking be alive,” snarled Nat through the comms. 

Clint’s breath came in quick gasps, pain assaulting every nerve ending of his left hip as he struggled to get to his feet.

“I’m...fine,” Clint grunted, which quickly turned into an alarmed shout as the turret found its target and started shooting again. “Shit, can someone take out that fucking turret?”

A few seconds passed by before he heard Hulk’s loud cry and then the sound of exploding metal and then silence.

Except for the wind.

And the remaining robots.

And honestly if his wound could scream right now, it would be screaming bloody murder.

“Thanks, buddy,” Clint called out shakily.

Clint knew he should probably tell his teammates he was injured. But there were still at least fifty more robots stomping or flying around, if not more.

His team needed him. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to Bucky. He needed to back him up. Two snipers meant two eyes in the sky. It was an added advantage they needed while Tony, Steve and Nat dealt with the Hydra operatives inside the buildings.

“Clint, you okay?” Steve asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

It tore at him to lie to Cap of all people, but he'd be useless if he lied. He'd also be leaving Bucky with a blind spot and unable to defend himself if something managed to sneak up. "Yeah, fine," he gasped. 

"Are you sure? I can take you to safety to recuperate if you wish. You sound like you are in pain, my friend," Thor chimed. 

“Yep,” he answered, popping the ‘P’. “I got hit, but it's just a graze. I just want to finish this and get some shawarma to be honest. I’m starving.”

“You and me both, pal,” Tony chimed in.

He looked across the rooftops towards Bucky who, even from that far off, Clint knew was eyeing him with a scrutinizing gaze.

The fight lasted for another couple minutes while Clint and the rest quickly picked off the remaining robots, all the while Clint struggling to stay on his feet.

His vision was darkening at the edges and his hands shook as the adrenalin started to wear off.

He saw Bucky destroy the last robot that had managed to sneak up onto his roof and suddenly, he couldn’t stay on his feet any longer.

He fell to his knees, his breathing picking up as his hands tried to feel the wound on the left side of his back.

It was then that he realized that the bullet had made it through and through. So basically he was bleeding out of not one but two holes on the left side of his torso.  
That meant double the blood loss.

"Fifty two, ha!" Bucky cheered. "I think I got you beat, Hawk-man." 

Clint wanted so desperately to clap back, to say _something_  but he couldn't breathe right. 

“Aw, fuck,” Clint cursed as he listed sideways, unable to support his body any longer.

In the silence that followed, Clint knew Bucky heard the agony in his tone. It was confirmed when Bucky looked his way in alarm and started sprinting and actually jumping from one rooftop to another, making his way to the archer. "Clint, what's wrong?" he demanded, breathing heavily.

“Uh, I’m...the turret,” he said, intelligently.

He could almost imagine the bewildered yet worried look on Bucky’s face.

But he couldn’t get his brain to think enough to form a straight sentence. Everything hurt and he was tired.

Maybe he could just sleep a while, he thought as his head hit the ground. Just a few minutes and then he’d explain to Bucky.

He vaguely heard Natasha's voice echo through the comms but he couldn't make out what was being said. 

He just wanted to sleep. 

Yeah. Just five minutes, and then he'd be okay. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as his eyes fluttered shut of their own accord, the sound of Bucky’s panicked shout ringing in his ears as he gave into the darkness.

**~o~** **  
**

The first thing Clint registered as he came to his senses was that he was in a hospital. It smelled like disinfectant and just...hospital-y. Every hospital had that weird, specific smell to it, that in all honesty, Clint hated and right now it was assaulting his nose like nobody's business. He hadn't even opened his eyes yet. 

Which, come to think of it, he should try to do. Everything sounded low and muffled around him which meant that his hearing aids weren't in. 

It took him a few seconds (or maybe minutes, he couldn't tell) but slowly, the pristine, white walls around him came into focus. He blearily looked around, trying to map out his surroundings. A dulled ache on his left side told him that he was injured and also hopped up on pain meds. 

He vaguely remembered what had happened so, he knew he should be in more pain than he felt currently. 

To the left of him, he spotted scarlet hair, and then the face of one of the most closest people in his life. She was busy scrolling through her phone, sitting on a plastic chair

He then looked to his right to see Bucky, hair shielding his face, also sitting on a chair with his arms resting on Clint's bed, head situated on his metal arm, looking to be asleep, his other hand lightly clutching Clint's hand. 

Clint slowly pulled his hand out from under his boyfriend's and brushed away the hair that covered his face, smiling to himself. The action, however, had Bucky immediately sitting upright, gasping for breath. 

"Whoa! It's me!" Clint croaked and then started coughing, and then groaning at the same time as his left side screamed in pain. 

He could have sworn his boyfriend muttered something that looked like he said 'eel' before a cup of ice chips was brought in front of his face. But that couldn't be right. Why would Bucky call him an eel? Clint wasn't really good at reading lips, it transpired. 

"Thanks," Clint breathed, closing his eyes as the sucked on the ice chips that slowly but surely soothed his throat.

As he opened his eyes again, he realized he was being given death glares by two of the most deadliest assassins on the planet. 

"Uh," he managed. "I can explain?" 

"Can you?" Bucky signed aggressively before crossing his arms. 

Natasha on the other hand just rolled her eyes, going back to looking at her phone while holding out a pair of dark purple hearing aids. "Just a graze, right, Clint?" she taunted after he'd put them in. 

"Nat - " 

"No, I know. It would be stupid of me to expect otherwise, though, right?" 

Clint sighed. She knew him so well. They both knew what had been going on in Clint's brain when he'd made the decision to keep his injury hidden. "I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. 

"I know. Just, say something next time?" 

Clint nodded as she got to her feet. "I'm gonna go update the rest. Tony's going to have words with you, just so you know," she smirked. "Don't look at me like that. You got yourself into this mess. Now you're gonna deal with the consequences." 

Clint watched in desperation as she walked out the door, knowing he was now going to have to face his boyfriend. It's not like he meant to get hurt. But also, Nat was right. He should have said something. 

"You should have said something," Bucky remarked in a clipped tone, echoing Clint's thoughts. That's when Clint got a proper look at Bucky's face. Dark shadows marred the skin under his eyes, lips chapped, skin pale, and Clint didn't miss how there seemed to be a fine tremor running through his whole body. 

"I know. I just - " Clint sighed, looking away. Guilt coursed through him. He knew what it felt like to be in Bucky's position, watching someone you love get injured and end up in a hospital bed never got easy. He also knew that from Bucky's body language, whatever happened after he'd passed out, hadn't been pretty. 

"How bad?" he asked. 

Bucky laughed, a cold mirthless laugh that sent a chill down Clint's spine. 

Fuck, that bad? 

Bucky stayed silent for a while minute before speaking. "You almost died on me, doll," he whispered, running his hands over his face. "You'd lost so much blood. You almost didn't make it." 

Clint didn't know what to say. He smiled humorlessly as he picked absently at his bed sheet. Funny how he hid his injury because he didn't want to be useless and yet here he was, causing Bucky and Nat and Tony and the rest worry and pain. 

He was being a useless piece of shit either way. 

"You're not a useless piece of shit." 

Fuck, did he say that out loud? 

"That's why you did it, didn't you? That's why you didn't tell me? That's why you lied?" 

Clint nodded, biting the inside of his lip. "I'm sorry, I just. We couldn't see jack shit. You'd have had a blind spot you couldn't always check on if I left and the team benefits with having two snipers. I didn't want me getting shot to be the reason the mission got screwed up or something. I don't regret what I did. Because I'd probably do it again, but I know you guys won't see it that way." 

Clint expected Bucky to yell at him, to want to punch him, hell to even want to break up with him. What he didn't expect was his boyfriend getting to his feet and kissing him, deep and tender and _loving_. 

Surprised, but happy, Clint reciprocated, trying to pour as much love, apology and need into it. 

Soon, they both parted, slightly out of breath and very pink in the face. 

"Hey, if I get to have that treatment, I might just get shot every mission we're on," Clint teased, waggling his eyebrows. 

"Oh, you asshole," Bucky laughed. 

They sat in content silence for the next few minutes with Clint sucking on more ice chips and Bucky staring at hi with an expression that Clint would call he-hates-me-but-he-also-loves-me. 

It was one of Clint's favourite top five James Barnes expressions. Clint had a list that included at least twenty. Not that he'd ever tell Bucky about it. 

"We did it, by the way. Tony stopped the missile launch and no one got blown up. Also, you owe me five hundred. Fifty-two, my personal highest," Bucky said smugly, grinning at Clint. 

Clint pursed his lips, smirking slightly as he pretended to examine his nails. "Uh, actually, you owe me a thousand." 

Bucky gaped. "No way. You fucker, you're lying." 

"Nah. Fifty-five, my buddy ol' pal. Also, highest record of the _team._ We bet five hundred if I beat you and double if I broke the team record. Tony held it at fifty three from a fight a couple years ago with Doom." 

Bucky grumbled under his breath as he took out his wallet, fishing out a thousand dollars (who the fuck keeps a thousand dollars on hand?) and slapping it into Clint's hand. 

"Okay, I bet another five hundred if I manage to beat you the next time we get called out," Bucky challenged, eyeing Clint with a glint in his eye. 

That competitive glint that Clint knew so well. 

"You're on." 

And that's how they were. Clint smiled to himself as Bucky kissed his forehead before leaving the room, promising to send Nat and be back as soon as he got coffee into his system. The fact that Bucky had stuck by Clint's bedside without coffee spoke to the seriousness of his situation. 

Clint knew that he could never promise to look out for himself when he'd rather look out for his team, but he was working on it, slowly but surely. 

And that was all he could do. 

All he would do.

That he could promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks if you stuck around. I know it's not my best. Writer's block has been a bitch. But this is what I was able to do for now. I promise I'll have more detailed/elaborate fics of Clint and Bucky being disasters together in the future. 
> 
> Reviews are love!


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